


Before Baby Bea

by a_novel_idea



Series: The Adventures of Baby Bea [3]
Category: Justified
Genre: F/M, Mostly Dialogue, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 02:10:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15876321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_novel_idea/pseuds/a_novel_idea
Summary: Tim and Auggie eat pancakes and waffles.





	Before Baby Bea

“So,” Auggie starts, cutting up the first of many pancakes. “Tell me about yourself.”

“My favorite color is green,” Tim says.

“Fascinating. What about your favorite number?”

“Seventy-seven.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“It’s the year Elvis died.”

“No love for the King?” she grins. “Shame. Here I thought you were a hound dog.”

Tim rolls his eyes.

“My favorite color is the ocean, all the blues and the grey and the greens.”

“What about your favorite number?” Tim asks.

“Mmmmh, twelve.”

“Why?”

“I dunno, just seems like a well-rounded number.”

Tim cuts into his waffles, ordered just to spite Auggie and her love of pancakes. She’d narrowed her eyes when he’d ordered, as if she was aware of exactly what he was doing.

“So……” Auggie says. “You do anything other than visit bars on weekday nights and step in on people’s fights?”

“Sure,” Tim drawls. “Sometimes I drink at home and steal candy from babies.”

Auggie snorts.

“Know many babies?”

“Not a one.”

Auggie smiles. “You live on base?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Mmmhhhhhhh, don’t call me ma’am.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She narrows her eyes, sitting back, checking over the man in front of her. He’s staring down at his plate, cutting his waffles into similarly sized pieces with his fork. His shoulders are rigid, but the rest of him seems tired, the kind of tired that comes from endless nights of stress and sleeplessness.

“You’re amazing at small talk,” she finally says, going back to her pancakes.

“Thank you.”

Auggie smiles again. “Where’re you from?”

“White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia.”

“That sounds like it would be in the middle of nowhere,”

“You would be right.”

There’s a momentary silence, then Tim asks,

“You?”

“Del Rio, Texas. It’s on the border, about a hundred and fifty miles west of San Antonio.”

“How’d you end up out here?”

“My grandmother left me some money when she passed, and I was tired of living in a shitty town with shitty people and shitty parents. So I took off. Took a bus to Dallas, New Orleans, Birmingham, Charlotte. Kind of moved my way over here. Drunk soldiers tip way better than broke hipsters in the city,” she laughs. “What about you? How did you end up out here?”

“Army sent me.”

Auggie rolls her eyes.

“Same thing,” Tim continues. “Shitty town, shitty people, shitty parents.”

“Well aren’t we two peas in a pod.”

They make less serious and prying small talk as they eat. Well. Auggie makes small talk and Tim listens and responds accordingly.

When it comes time to settle the bill, Auggie fights Tim for it, but the Ranger wins. She rolls her eyes, pulling her purse strap over her shoulder, and steps out into the muggy morning air, noticing the sky rolling into a lighter blue. She checks her phone then shoves it back into her bag when the door jingles, signaling someone exiting the diner behind her.

She turns to find Tim scratching at the stubble darkening around his jaw, staring out across the parking lot. Standing as close as they are, Auggie can tell he might actually be an inch or two shorter than she is, and she’s a little delighted, for reasons she isn’t sure of. She can also tell that he needs a good night’s sleeps probably more than he needs anything else.

“You need a ride back to base?” she asks.

“Nah. I’ll walk.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

Almost on impulse, Auggie digs an old piece of mail out of the bottom of the bag, tears the information with her name and address on it, and hands it to Tim.

“You should write me while you’re gone,” she shrugs. “If you want.”

He stares at the paper, taking it from her slowly and looking it over.

“Augusta?” he questions.

“What about it, Timothy?” she asks, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing,” he says, and Auggie tries to figure out if the uptick at the corner of his mouth is really there or if it’s just a trick of the rising sun.

“Better be nothing,” she grumbles.

This time she knows the smirk is there.


End file.
